001 | the lone wolf

[partnerinheels]

It's not a small town she stops in, those are always too tight, too close knit to go unnoticed by the locals. Strangers weren't accepted for much longer than passing through. They may sound polite, but that's just a Southern thing. Words didn't always mean what they traditionally meant.

That and a woman of her skin tone stood out like a sore thumb in most backwater towns. Big cities were a little too hectic for her, too many people and too many distracting and irritating noises clamoring over her every second of every day. It gave her insomnia and put her in a worse mood because of it. No, she found that mid to larger sized towns suited her needs nicely. Small cities did okay too, depending on the type. She needed enough diversity to blend into the natural ebb and flow of tourism or business affairs.

In reality, big cities would be best, but she just hated the damn headaches. No one ever taught her to control her curse. As always, Sheva had found a way to teach herself and survive to the best of her abilities. On one hand, she's still alive as a lone wolf, but on the other, she's everywhere in near every aspect of her life.

Her control is shaky at best, her life is mobile, and she's become a loner in every shape of the word. With the curse, Sheva feels as if she's lost herself to the beast, but she knows it could be worse. It could always be worse.

It had been a long drive and by the time she gets into this new town, somewhere in Louisiana, Sheva's exhausted. Still the night is far from over. It's near enough to a full moon that she's just itching to find four legs and run off all this pent up energy accumulated from being stuck in her vehicle for hours at one time. Road rage and traffic had extrapolated her nasty mood.

Once she's gathered her supplies, Sheva's in her truck and off to the site she had scoped out days prior. It should be well outside this area's pack territory, or so she's heard from multiple sources. Some were reliable, others had given her old, expired news.

The access road is just as old it seems, poorly maintained and full of standing water and bumpy landscape, but she makes it safely. It's thrown in park as she's hopping out of the truck, the keys secured safely in a compartment underneath the truck. Her clothing's hastily thrown in the back seat, and she's already sweating as her skin itches and burns.

Her change isn't pleasant, it never has been pleasant for her. There's no control and she chokes back a scream of pain, moaning loudly as bones crack and muscles tear and shifts. Deep, rusty black fur replaces her mocha skin, she'd cry if it would help, but Sheva refuses to give into the pain like that. It's over faster than it feels, and she stretches and shakes the ache and pain into something more manageable.

At least she managed to teach herself something.

As soon as she can run, Sheva takes off into the forest, running without discretion or abandon. She's nowhere near the pack's territory, right? Stealth shouldn't be an issue. Stealth will come later when she's hungry. For now, she's easy to track and find for any wolf (or hunter) worth their salt.

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[alwaysathief]

He breaks into a happy, upside down panted smile, tongue lolling out at a ridiculous angle. When she comes closer he rolls over slightly so he can nuzzle against her, letting her lick him and then tucking his head under her's.

Curiosity is getting the better of him in the calm. He wants to know who she is, talk to her, warn her about the two packs and where not to go. Or not talk at all, just kiss her, touch, connect as humans.

He slips away from her slightly, enough that he can sit up, shaking himself out a bit before cocking his head to look down at her, making quiet whimpering noises in the back of his throat. He's torn, he has a bad feeling she'll run away, and there's always the danger that she'd turn aggressive. In human form he wouldn't stand a chance. He lets out a long huff of an exhale before his ears swivel back, giving him a look of distress as he lays back down again indecisively.

[partnerinheels]

Sheva takes her time grooming him, stealing her own nuzzles from him between slow and increasingly affectionate licks, a happy rumble in her chest. There may have even been a curious lick to his tongue because well, she really doesn't know how to wolf beyond angry instincts, so this calm down time is a whole new experience.

There's no way to admit it, but she's curious about who he is and how he found her. She's a bit fearful of what might happen should she shift back too. It could make her an easier target. She might be relaxing with him here and now, but bringing their humanity into this feels far more intimate. That and there are some other hormones running high that Sheva doesn't know if she could control if they were both sweaty, naked, and human.

So when he moves, she huffs a questioning breath, tilting her head to watch him warily. He's trying to tell her something, but unfortunately she's pretty horrible at speaking wolf. Maybe he's still scared, and while she can't read his mind, she does lay down lower to try and appear less threatening. Staring up at him, she whines when he looks distressed and hesitates a moment before rolling onto her side and reaching a paw out at him like he had done to her earlier. It's not quite rolling onto her back, but it's a concession.

[alwaysathief]

His eyes are bright with curiosity as he watches her do her best to mimic what he'd done earlier, rolling over submissively and trying to reassure him. It's enough to convince him she wasn't about to rip him apart if he turned back, so he decides to take a chance and trust her. No doubt if anyone in his pack found out what he was doing they'd all say he deserved the horrible death he was toying with, that this was easily the stupidest thing he could be doing.

He sits up again slightly and shakes himself out as his bones churn and shift positions, red fur disappearing leaving auburn hair in its place. Of course, he's naked, which just makes him feel that much more vulnerable, but he stays relaxed, reaching out to scratch his fingers through the thick fur on her neck, just behind her ears. He's looking down at her intently, his golden brown eyes pass for human, but there's just the hint of something supernatural there, like most who are born wolves.

He lays back down beside her, propping his head up on one hand, waiting for her to make a decision - turn, run, or tear him to pieces. His heart is hammering away despite his calm expression and he has no doubt she can hear it.

[partnerinheels]

It's a mighty grand chance that he's taking with her, this is uncharted territory for her, and it's as much as she's trusted anyone, human or wolf, in years. Optimism had long since given way to realism and a healthy distrust for anyone around her. It made drifting easier, but now Sheva isn't so certain it's made life better if nights like this were out of her grasp because of it. Still, if she can't trust herself, how should she expect someone else to trust her?

Yet somehow that's exactly what he's doing. As he changes, she rolls her head enough to watch him, tip of her tail flicking nervously. At some point, she whines, uncertain and scared as to where this path would take them. He's a handsome man, and for that she's selfishly relieved, tongue slipping out to lick hungrily out at her nose. Her eyes widen, slightly panicked when he lays down next to her so casually, but the fingers scratching through her fur calm her, going as far as to pull a very soft, pleased rumble from her chest.

Her canine eyes find his, and she whines again, turning to lick his arm affectionately. It's to reassure him that she means him no harm, that she appreciates what he's doing for her, even though she looks distressed. She can hear the slam of his heart, her ears pricked in his direction. Her's is beating faster, and she swallows nervously with another whine. Eventually, once she's drawn enough courage, she rolls over so she's more or less sitting and shifts.

Hers is not a tolerable, practiced shift. Relative to his, it's ugly. It's obviously difficult for her, causing her pain that she howls and whines through until they turn to more human sounds of hurt, until the bones and muscles stop crunching and settle. She's left there on her hands and knees, sweaty and gasping for breath, hiding behind a curtain of her wavy, unruly hair. Instead of words, a soft whimper slips out when she finally attempts to move and stretch. This is usually about the time where she's popping some Advil and drinking herself to sleep in either a tent or the bed of her truck.

[alwaysathief]

He watches, grimaces on her behalf and slipping his hand away. Touching her while she's changing isn't a good idea, she's still just as dangerous if not more so, and no doubt her skin feels like it's on fire. They can work on this, if she'll let him help her, if he even sees her again after tonight. It reminds him of the first changes, unpracticed, messy and painful. It doesn't have to be that way. But she's a lone wolf, and he's assuming, a drifter, as lone wolves usually are. He certainly wouldn't be surprised if she vanished into thin air like she'd never been there at all.

The process is long and hard to watch, but finally she's human, panting and aching, her skin glistening under the moonlight with a sheen of sweat from the ordeal. He finally reaches back out to her, fingers brushing her shoulder. He has to resist the urge to pull back as if burned, her skin feels feverish under his fingertips. Shifting closer, he tries to comfort her, guiding her closer and tenderly brushing the hair out of her face, smoothing it back and away as she recovers.

There isn't any reason to say anything, it would've been stupid to ask if she was okay, because she obviously wasn't, and an exchange of names seemed ridiculous. So instead, he continues to try to comfort her, rubbing out the muscles of her shoulders as he brushes a light kiss across her temple. He almost seems apologetic, like it's his fault she'd had to turn back, but the sun would've come up eventually and surely this was better than going through this alone?

[partnerinheels]

He's smart and does everything right while she changes, and she appreciates more than she's showing right now. The fact that he touches her is surprising, but it's the coolness that startles Sheva, her muscles tense before relaxing into the comfort he's offering her. The temperature feels nice, like a cool cloth dabbing away the heat. Sometimes, when the location allowed for it, she would take a swim before retiring for what remained of the evening, or even during the day. She kept weird hours due to her shaky control and lifestyle.

Her gaze is an odd mix of confusion, fear, and a heavy sadness that no doubt usually hid behind a deep seeded anger she carries for the curse. This life had never been a choice for her. Not much in her life had even prior to that, but those were all known hardships and challenges. She could navigate those. The bite hadn't erased those, just layered on an entirely new shitpile of issues to try and manage.

She leans into his touch even though she's nervous, allowing him to move the hair from her face. It feels nice, and she can't help but search out his eyes with hers. There's nothing to say, not that she can think of, but this sort of comfort isn't something she's felt in years. There's no desire to go anywhere right now, especially in her condition. It's been so long that there's no memory of this tender feeling. When she sighs it shakes, and the kiss produces a soft whimper, more human than wolf now.

There's no moving closer to him, she hurts too much for that, but there's no protest when he edges in closer. Tears threaten to escape as she cautiously reaches out to touch his chest, splaying her hand carefully over bare skin with a choked gasp. Human contact is one thing, easy to gain for carnal needs that require no connection, but this is different. This is raw and the most honest she's been with anyone in a long time. There's truth even in their silence. This is intimacy, and she'll never admit it, but Sheva's very glad he's here tonight.

[alwaysathief]

He's not sure what he can do for the mix of emotions she's obviously experiencing; he knows the physical comfort he's offering can only go so far, but he's eager to try. All the hurt, and fear, and sadness can't all be because of the painful shift. He imagines she must be lonely though. She's a wolf after all; he'd be lonely if he didn't have a pack.

Still, he can smell her anxiety. It's so strong it's almost like he's feeling it himself. The light, reassuring touches seem to be helping slowly, which gives him some encouragement to keep going, running his fingers through her hair delicately, his fingers lightly brushing her neck and shoulders as he does.

She shakes and reaches for him, and he pauses a moment, making sure she's alright and trying to appear as unthreatening as possible, not wanting to move and spook her. His lips part to take a quiet breath as her fingers ghost over his skin and he offers her a small, encouraging smile. Slowly tilting his head, he leans in a little closer but doesn't close the gap between them, wordlessly asking if it's okay to kiss her.

[partnerinheels]

The more he touches her, the more her anxiety dissipates out of her bones, her muscles, and most importantly her mind. She takes deep, long breathes as she tries to get her heart rate down, tries to focus on his touch and the way he smells. She can't help but shiver as his fingertips ghost over her fevered skin, leaning ever so slightly into his tenderness.

Meanwhile, her hand slowly pushes over his chest to rest over his heart, focusing on the feel of it beating beneath her fingertips, the control and even rhythm it represents. It doesn't take long for her attention to shift focus to the feelings and urges beneath the pain and lingering emotions from the shift. He's correct, due to all of her aggression and limited control of the curse, Sheva lives a lonely life as both a person and especially as a wolf. All of her contact with other wolves has been terse at best, and wholly negative every other instance.

That gentle motion forward, his suggestion and question of permission he offers her, threatens her emotions to break into tears. Carefully, as if she's fearful she'll wake up from a dream, she watches him and nudges herself forward. The gap's still there, a request for him to take the lead and set the pace since he's done it well thus far.

[alwaysathief]

His chest rises and falls under her hand, breathing as even and steady as the constant thump of his heartbeat. She seems to be relaxing, or maybe just distracted, from the dull ache that her transformation must have left her with.

She mirrors the way he leans in and he reads it as an invitation; she's certainly not retreating back and pulling away from him at least. With a hand on his chest, he figures she could always give him a shove if she feels overwhelmed.

Still moving slow, he threads his fingers through her hair until he's lightly cupping her face and finally leans in to close the distance. His lips brush lightly over her's at first, easing closer before pressing against her for a real kiss. He let's it naturally build, moving his lips over her's and then running his tongue along her lips, wanting to deepen the kiss.

Without parting, he slowly eases himself down into the lush grass, guiding her down on top of him, his hands now trailing along her shoulders and down her back.

[partnerinheels]

She keeps her hand on his chest. It feels grounding with his even breathing and heart rate, and gives her the possibility to push him away should he move too quickly or overwhelm her in other manners. Sheva still aches, but he's helping her not only forget about the pain, but to replace it with something far better.

Her inhale is shaky as his hand nears her face, tensing ever so slightly in that moment, but when the warmth and strength of his hand presses against her still fevered skin, the other wolf relaxes against him. She had forgotten what it felt like to be touched like this, with tenderness and acceptance, and he's seen her near at her worst as a wolf.

He earns the softest of whimpers at the soft brush, the contact coaxing another warmth from her. When a real kiss follows, she can feel herself melting into it, melting into him. There's more emotion then she expected to encounter. Usually she just does this solely as a means to an end to scratch a carnal itch, but this feels gentle and comforting. More importantly, this feels natural.

Following his lead, she kisses back, leaning into him while gracefully swinging a leg over his hip so she's straddled atop him. The hand on his chest curves up his neck to frame his face, but only after smoothing her fingertips over his scruff. All the while, her lips part and she invites him to keep going, her own tongue smoothing over his lower lip after nipping at it playfully, curiously.

[alwaysathief]

He helps her ease on top of him, smiling softly into the kiss. He finds himself half wondering if he can feel the reassuring curl of his lips against her's and tries to show pour his encouragements into the kiss. His fingers curl gently through her hair, wanting to draw her closer without pushing. Fingertips continue their path, brushing along her neck and jaw lightly and then down to her shoulders and across her collarbone. He continues down her arm until his fingers find her's. Leaving her hand where it is, pressed close to his face, he pushes his long fingers between her's to give her hand a gentle squeeze.

With a wide smile, he playfully chases after her nip by flicking his tongue out quickly to tap her upper lip, bumping the tip of his nose to her's. Still smiling, he tilts his head and props himself up enough to press in for another kiss with a soft laugh. He quickly parts his lips and deepens it, easing back down so he can get his other hand free to thread it into her hair where the other had just been.

He doesn't keep it there for long, once his lips are pressed against her's again it goes wandering, slipping down to trace inquisitively down her stomach. The pads of his fingers dip into the concave of her navel before gliding down to her hip, toying along her inner thigh. The feel of her soft, feverish skin makes him moan appreciatively into the kiss.

[partnerinheels]

She feels it. His little gestures and encouragements continue to soothe her nerves away, allowing them to fall by the wayside bit by painful bit. His antics have her smiling, even laughing against his lips at times, which is an altogether foreign feeling, especially combined with the sweet, affectionate gestures. There are shivers and soft noises from his fingertips, and they coax her closer, feeling more and more like she needs this, needs him and his playful nature.

His tongue over her upper lip, an odd thing indeed, earns a short huffing noise as she tries to nip at the invading tongue, murmuring at the nose bump. It's a pleasant noise. When he presses, she pushes back and kisses him with more heat than she expected him to draw. It's intoxicating, the way he's treating her and the intimacy of everything, so she finally gives way and returns the moan into his lips.

Her skin still feels fevered to the touch, but it's no longer simply hot from the shift. In case he has any doubt to her desire, her fingers give his thread more through his and she moves their hands down his chest until they're at the point where her heat's hovering over him. Her own hand slides firmly over her mound and lingers, a silent request as she gasps herself forward and closer to him. At some point, her other hand has moved to cup along his jaw and then into his hair, inhaling deep the scent of him she stirs.

[alwaysathief]

His expression is steadily shifting from playful, comforting and intimate to heated and needy, pupils wide with just a sliver of gold around them, his chest heaving with each carefully measured breath. His lips are parted as he watches her slide their hands lower, breath catching when she touches herself. Swallowing thickly, he does as she asks, gaze moving to her face to watch her reaction as he slips a finger inside her. She's burning hot, already slick; that along makes him groan with desire as he curls his finger further inside her.

He starts with a slow, exploratory rhythm, moving his finger back out of her so a second can join it as his thumb rubs circles around her clit, massaging into it. His own skin has taken on a feverish quality, desire making him shudder as he reaches out to tangle his other hand into her hair, guiding her forward so their lips can meet in a heated kiss.

He moans against her lips again, lapping his tongue forward to coax his way into her mouth as his fingers curl and twist into her. His toes curl and he groans again, need clear in his tone as his hips move of their own volition but get nothing. He takes a pages from her book, fumbling to find her hand to guide it behind her with a pleading, groaned whimper.

[partnerinheels]

Her eyes flash a little more roughly than him as he presses inside her, the wolf in her always under the surface in a barely controlled manner, especially during the influence of the full moon. It's why the pull affects her during the days before and after. Her groan comes from her chest as she watches him, mouth parting and hips rocking gently against his hand, savoring how it feels to be truly free with him. She drinks in his scent and the way their arousal smells mixing together in the air, tapping into senses she usually vehemently ignores. He's witness to the hunger and the tentative smile that delights over her features at these realizations and firsts.

Not holding back herself finally allows her to truly experience the levels of sensations that feel right with her. He's attention to her clit tug a rumbling noise from her chest, her face dipping close to his as she pants, hair falling forward over his face as she leans into his touch. His lips taste different, but it's his tongue that riles her with the residual taste of her as a wolf dragging more primal images and desires to head along with his talented hand. She hopes he can taste what lingers of his furry self on her, a soft chuffing noise pushing against his lower lip as she bites and tugs at it with a little more roughness.

Sheva's very aware of his hips fighting for attention, and of the very intoxicating smell of him. When he finds her hand, she knows exactly what he wants. Still, she has him guide her and whimper his want, plead with her for attention and touches she already desires to give. She stays with his touch for as far as he can reach, extending the rest of the way to him when he hits his limit. Finger pads gently press against the heat of his shaft, and she gasps at just how hot he feels, fingers instinctively curling around him with a shudder of pure want. Slowly, she starts to stroke him in a similarly exploratory series of movements.

[alwaysathief]

There's a part of his mind that quickly recognizes the aggression as lustful and eager, but the wolf in him is quick to show his submission, especially at the spark of color in her eyes. It's nothing obvious, and maybe she doesn't won't even consciously notice, but there's a different tilt to his head, placing himself further below her without breaking the kiss. His hand slips away from her's, quick to relinquish the control and decisions to her.

His own desires certainly haven't gone anywhere or lessened, she's simply taken precedent over them. He's careful not to show his teeth or return the bite when she teases his lip, instead pressing eagerly close to chase after her for more.

Her hand wrapping around his erection makes him inhale sharply, breaking the kiss to bow his head, eyes closed as his chin hits his chest. His gasp dissolves into a low moan, free hand finding her hip to squeeze encouragingly. The fingers inside her slow distractedly as he gets a feel for her rhythm before starting to slide them in and out of her in time with her own strokes.

He groans low and lets his head tip back, eyes opening just enough to look up at the dark sky and bare his neck to her. He speeds up the pace steadily, trying to coax her to do the same. When he tilts his head back down to look at her, his eyes are dark, more animal than man, hot with desire and need, overwhelmed and intoxicated by her scent.

[partnerinheels]

She doesn't notice the subtle changes in his behavior, too lost in all the brighter sensations of not holding back. The wolf inside her notices, and she subconsciously backs down the aggression. Focusing on how she's feeling with him, a gruff laugh slips past her lips as he chases her nibble for more attentions, which she's more than happy to give him.

The break in his kiss allows her to savory not only the heat and softness of the skin beneath her hand, but to watch the reactions play over his features with parted lips and growing desire. He doesn't give her much time to relax and enjoy the view before his hand starts to match her rhythm, hips naturally rocking against him for more pleasure.

When the expanse of his neck splays out in invitation, Sheva can't help trying to lean forward and taste him along it, nips and nibbles would suit her deliciously, but she'd have to let go of his cock to reach. It's why she whines and huffs at her predicament, breath hot and close but not quite there. As his fingers quicken and become more urgent, so do her noises of pleasure he's skillfully coaxing from deep within her chest. Growls and moans mixing together in more wolfish manners than she intends.

Catching the animal in his gaze, Sheva rumbles low and deep, leaning back with both hands around him, matching the pace he sets for them both, hips rocking against his hand as she arches backwards. Her hair, wavy and free, dangles backwards as well, brushing over the heat of his skin and unintentionally tickling him. All the while, she's watching him with a very similar gaze of need and want, the smell of him and them driving her positively wild.

[alwaysathief]

He couldn't pinpoint where or what it was that sets him off and causes the shift in him. Maybe it's one of her deep growls that hits a frequency that connects with the wolf inside him or the scents she's putting off that are some kind of unspoken primitive signal. All he knows is that he has to have her, it's the only thing that fills his mind, overwhelming all of his senses. There's nothing but her.

With a possessive snarl, he pushes himself up and topples them over, pushing her onto her back as he buries his face into her neck. He nuzzles and licks before nipping at her skin, his movements feverish and disjointed with need.

His single minded drive clouds his thoughts, her earlier distrust and reluctance a distant memory as he coaxes her legs apart and presses against her. Not that a sharp, quick slap wouldn't snap him out of it, but for the moment everything is about easing his way inside her, burying himself deeper. He turns his head to bite her shoulder as his hips slow to a halt, as far inside her as he can get, still growling and whining with desire.

[partnerinheels]

There's a sharp yelp of surprise as her back hits grass. It doesn't hurt, but it sparks something inside her and she growls in response to his snarl, tilting her head away to offer him more of her skin to worship and possess. Her back arches and she presses her self against him, taunting and teasing him to act on that singular need. All the while, she watches him with dark, wild eyes that are hooded in pleasure.

Her legs rub and hook over the backs of his even as he pushes them apart, dragging her still sweaty skin over his body, rivulets transferring from her smooth skin to his hairier limbs. When he starts pressing into her, she urges him with pants and wanting rumbles, her heels digging into his hamstrings and pulling.

The heat of it knocks the breath from her lungs in a noise that sounds too human to be wolf, but too much like a howl to be totally human. With a possessive snarl of her own, she grips at his neck as he bites her shoulder, her nails digging into flesh just enough to avoid breaking the skin. Her body shudders and her legs wrap up around his hips to keep him there, to let her adjust and feel utterly full and on fire.

The loosening of her legs to give him room to thrust couples with a gentle pull of her hand so that she can kiss him deeply, pausing every so often to catch his eyes, to let him know how good she feels and unknowingly how he's hers in this tussle.

[alwaysathief]

At her offering, he drags his tongue up the side of her neck in a slow broad stroke before nipping at her skin just below her ear.

She tangles with him, pulling and guiding him with her legs, skin pressed flush against skin. He tangles a hand through her hair roughly when she howls into the night, teeth grazing her throat as his heated breath pant over her damp skin. Growling against her as his other hand digs into the grass beside her for leverage, he shifts to try to find room as she wraps her legs around him to keep him still. He growls again as he tries to make room, but when that doesn't immediately work, he changes tactics, trying little whimpers and nuzzling at her encouragingly.

She releases him and it's just enough room to move, to rock his hips against her in a steady rhythm as he hungrily kisses her back. His heady moans are lost, muffled as their lips connect with fervor and the rocking turns into rougher, wilder thrusts. His fingers tighten in her hair, the sting of her nails digging into him spurring him onward with even more zeal.

The looks he can't help but catch pour heat through him. He might be on top of her, but only because she's willed it and he knows it perfectly well.

[partnerinheels]

The softer noises of need spur her into a new sort of wanting. She's never needed or wanted a pack or a mate as they call them, human or otherwise. Whenever she had needs she filled them, always holding back, pushing the animal into its cage while she acted like a human. After she was bitten, sex always felt disconnected to her, another reason why she hated the curse.

There's no disconnect here. There's no holding back or pretending to be someone else. This is her now, and he's unlocking an intensity of emotions and primal pleasure that she never knew existed with this life.

Her throat rumbles in low pleasure when she finally allows his hips room to thrust, back arching to meet each one as her hip rock in slight circles. She can't help but groan into his lips, pulling back to nip and tug roughly at his lower one. When his pace picks up even more, she growls low in her throat as a warning before deciding she had no patience for or faith in his self-control. With unsurprising agility and strength, she coordinates her limbs and their body weight to roll him roughly onto his back.

Hands press and fingers curl against his chest as she reels in the pace to something much slower, but somehow rougher with the need. This way, she can look down at him with hungry eyes as she torments them both with the heat of the other. Her skin's damp with sweat again, hair falling into her face as the shorter pieces stick and lend themselves to her utterly wild vision.

[alwaysathief]

She shifts under him and he should have realized what was happening, but he's left reacting in surprise as she topples him onto his back. The dig of rocks and grass against his skin, a reminder they're out here in the open, makes him groan and fight to tug her close enough for another heated kiss, welcoming more bites to his already swollen and bruised lips. Her slower pace has him growling and huffing, fingers pressing hard into her thighs and hips as if that might encourage her to speed up.

Her skin glistens in the moonlight, giving her an ethereal quality that's almost distracting. His own hair is starting to stick his forehead, a sheen of sweat quickly spreading over his own body. His breaths are already ragged as he tries to tune into her rhythm and rock his hips up to meet her, panting and gasping in pleasure as they meet.

The roughness outweighs his desire to go faster, focusing on harder as he growls into the kiss and their teeth click. He breaks it, tilting his head back and pressing it into the ground as he looks up at her, eyes dark and unnatural.

[partnerinheels]

They encourage her alright, encourage her to growl low in her throat and keep the pace exactly where she wants it. Her knees press into the ground, the pain of rough ground and grit serving to help her maintain control. Otherwise, she'd likely allow herself to give into the pace he obviously desires, but she wants to make this last, this feeling of freedom and the intense connection she feels to him and herself.

She does give into his insistence on the kiss. It's what she wants, her one hand moving to firmly grab the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him against her until she's decided she's had enough, tugging him back so she can nip and bite a rough trail of marks just under his jaw and along his neck. Eventually she can't help herself to return to his hungry mouth, licking over the reddening skin she's just visited, renewed in vigor from his taste.

As he pulls back she pants, chest rumbling in pleasure at the sight of him beneath her with his gaze in a storm, each hard thrust causing her body to shudder and give further into the animal. An entirely familiar but somehow foreign feeling wells deeper inside her, brewing stronger with each passing moment of carnal affections. Her hand tugs him back up as she leans back, urging him to sit up and press closer to her with an accompanying series of huffs and low whines. It's not very alpha, but she wants him like this, pressed close drinking the other in with every sense she can manage.

[alwaysathief]

He continues to paw and knead at her, hands moving over her body to press against everywhere he can reach. It's too rough to be called a caress and too needy to be curiosity. He isn't exploring her body, he's simply doing everything he can to keep himself preoccupied, to try and stave off the need he's feeling while hopefully coaxing a more from her.

He tumbles greedily into the kiss. It's an equally good distraction and he whines heatedly into it, a low hummed moan muffled against her lips. He doesn't protest when she breaks the kiss, but his unhindered moans break the hush of the night air, loud and unabashed.

He's close and he can feel every little movement, ever shudder. He works himself up with a little difficulty, no longer able to move his hips into her hardly at all. His hands settle on her ass in an attempt to keep them both moving, pressing deeper. She's met with shaky, breathy groans, but his mouth is immediately pushed to her skin, anywhere he can reach, little nips and kisses across her collar bone, neck and shoulder, needy and feverish until he simply buries his face into her neck and pants against her skin, breath uneven and quick, his control slipping.

[partnerinheels]

At this point, everything is need. Everything he does to distract himself simply fuels her body further down the rabbit hole that feels like her building orgasm. Her vocalizations encourage his grabby, rough behavior. To feel desired with such passion while being so primal now and even more so earlier.

The fact that they're in the damn forest hasn't escaped her either, still itching at the back of her mind through smells and the feel of ground beneath her, a strong background to the scents of them both together. His taste has her eager to drag her lips against him in any way possible. Tongue drags along the lines of his neck to indulge in his sweat, nipping occasionally when the rocking of hips jump her closer to the impending orgasm, and just tasting the scent of him while she pulls ragged breaths close to his skin.

He may not have the leverage, but she's grinding roughly against him while keeping a hard pace, and he's doing everything right as far as her mind and body are concerned. She wants to tell him she's close, but why waste words when she can roughly bite his shoulder, a hand slipping between them to shove herself over the building edge. Sheva growls savagely into his skin, grip on his flesh tightening instinctively to keep him there as she huffs out noises of uncontrolled pleasure against his skin, her spasms strong and steady around him.

At some point she stops biting and pushes her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, gripping it so she can ride out the last of her tremors with her feral gaze entrenched in his.

[alwaysathief]

She tightens around him and that's it, all the frantic movements reach a fever pitch and it feels like all his muscles seize up, like she's knocked the wind out of him. All he can smell or feel is her as intense pleasure rocks him through a powerful orgasm, and he's lost in her eyes, lips parted in a silent shout. He's tugging at her hair hard, fingertips pressing into her skin, grabbing and pulling at her but moving her nowhere, like he just needs something to cling to so he doesn't get swept away.

His body relaxes just enough for him to take a shuddering breath and moan hoarsely, the sound loud and echoey through the hushed swamps.

The electrified energy ebbs out of him quickly, leaving him rocking his hips into her to ride through the waves of calming pleasure. There's the quietest hint of things what will ache later as his damp skin cools faster than his still overheated body, and he realizes absently that he's stroking her hair.

Pulling her closer, he brushes light kisses across her lips and jaw, hands moving over her body as they both slow down and bask in hazy pleasure.

[partnerinheels]

The tugging and rough handling elicit growls between her other, wild noises of pleasure that peak as she does and ebb naturally so soft chuffing noises at the back of her throat and shaky breaths. She falls easily into his eyes, feeling something pull within her as she watches him--as they watch each other--tumble over that precipice together. It's not something she's ever done, nor wanted to do on the grounds that it was too intimate, too close. It's still both those things, but she hadn't held back that night in the muggy warmth of the swamp, and there's a different sort of warmth in her. She presumes it's because they're both werewolves and moves on with it. Best not to linger those thoughts anywhere.

Her hands loosen their grip to ghost along his sweaty skin, light and tender especially over the places her teeth had left marks and bruises, all while her hips rock lazily against the last waves of her own dwindling orgasm. She's sore, or will be once this fogs lifts and tomorrow comes, but for now she's content.

Sheva finds herself leaning into his gentle touch of his hands, savoring the affections of his lips with soft kisses of her own, again mirroring him. She appears confused, almost startled at the kind treatment after such a rough tumble in the swamp. They're strangers and they still haven't spoken one word to one another. It's strange one one hand, but feels just right on the other.

Her body shudders as it cools and he slips along still sensitive or ticklish areas. Eventually she breaks her face away from his to lean and dote apologetic licks and kisses to that rough bite to his shoulder done in the heat of passion. There's even a soft whimper in her voice, barely audible. She's sorry, not used to being so wild and free during sex. He'll be okay, right?

[alwaysathief]

His movements are slow, lazy and unhurried, not ready to stop yet just because they've both climaxed. He happily presses against her lips, lips curled in a soft, content smile. Her scent is still overwhelming and he's no less entranced by her, feeling compelled to keep touching her, keep tasting her. In the hazy aftermath, it's almost easy to close his eyes and will this moment to stretch on forever.

He watches in curiosity when she pulls away, smile widening when she laps at the bruises and bitemarks she inflicted. Obviously, they're not something he's overly concerned with. With a quiet laugh, he shifts under her, nuzzling his way back under her lips again so their mouths meet, so she's kissing him instead of the bruises.

If that doesn't reassure her that the bruises and scratches are all welcome, he's not sure what will.

Pulling her into a deeper kiss, he rolls, guiding her down and them both onto their sides in the grass, his arm slipped under her head so she can rest on it.

[partnerinheels]

She basks in the afterglow, still intoxicated by the scent of him and them hanging heavy in the air as well as clinging to their skin. Lingering this long with him still inside her is an entirely new experience for her, and the way her body still twitches around him, little aftershocks murmuring through her like heavy, coaxing whispers. Usually she just rolls over, gets dressed and gets the hell out of dodge. This is new, and she feels as if this is someone else’s experience because it feels so right.

Her movements mirror his, slowly savoring his taste as she allows herself to smile and enjoy the affectionate contact. Sheva continues to touch him, pulling him close with soft, tender motions that speak to the appreciation she feels for everything. There’s no thinking about tomorrow or later that night, no words necessary in this moment. They’re just together and it feels natural.

When he laughs and nudges his face back to hers, a smile curls against his lips and brightens her eyes as they watch his, hand coming up to run through the scruff at his jaw before falling back into his lips, the heady weight of arousal threatening to cloud her mind once again.

It’s different, she realizes as he guides them both to the lush grass, slightly crushed from their exertions. It’s attraction on another level, one that incorporates who she is now, a part of her she’s been denying and fighting for years. Her one leg is slung over his hip still, keeping him close as she lays with him, eventually breaking the kiss so she can press her forehead against his and search his eyes with hers, entirely content.

[alwaysathief]

He's definitely not in any rush to move away from her, or even get up. In fact, falling asleep here, curled up in the grass, seems like a perfectly acceptable proposition. He shifts, stealing a kiss when she comes to rest her forehead on his. Oddly, there's something about it that feels just a little too personal, too invasive.

Ducking his head, he brushes his lips over her cheek and jaw before easing her down so they can intertwine and use each other to rest on. He much more keen to keep up this physical contact, trace his fingers over her warm skin, than to keep up the eye contact. There's no reason to get too attached, after all, he's sure in the morning that whoever wakes up first will quietly walk away from this and this night will just fade into memory.

He shifts again to get comfortable on the grass, letting his eyes drift closed, content in enjoying the moment and letting himself slowly sink into sleep while stroking her hair.